Angel of Mercy
by xxDodo
Summary: You can only cheat Death so many times before it realizes you're not gonna die. But then, it can always aim for someone else, with a plan that would kill you inside anyway. Songfic to "Mercy," rated for angst.


**A/N: Yeah, slightly darker than I usually write, but the song demanded it (plus I had a document full of the cool-looking lyrics and couldn't just leave it like that). And honestly, w****here's the whump, Flanny?**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim. RA goes to John Flanagan, and the amazing song "Mercy" goes to *epic drumroll* OneRepublic.**

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><p><strong>Angel of Mercy<strong>

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><p><em>Angel of Mercy<br>How did you find me?  
>Where did you read my story?<br>Pulled from the papers  
>Desperate and hardened<br>Seeking a momentary fix_

What happens when you cheat death one too many times? When your very being should have been dead ten times over, but there's something more than even your will to live keeping you breathing?

Death doesn't like that.

It retaliates, looking for something, someone, it can take as compensation.

And it knows nothing can stand in its way this time, because its target is not the same. Yet still, it can kill two birds with one stone.

Death's cunning like that.

_All I wanted to say  
>All I wanted to do<br>Is fall apart now  
>All I wanted to feel<br>I wanted to love  
>It's all my fault now<br>A tragedy I fear_

It came in the form of an arrow that day. In the midst of chaos and destruction, the way it likes it best. And it flew from the bow of the very person who refused to die, and who also happened to be the best shot in the country.

Oh, the irony.

The one whose bow was like an extension of himself, who needed to learn a lesson about life and death, is made to shoot his own mentor and father for Death.

The force took pleasure in that fact.

War never stops for tragedies within it, but for those who care, the world is a cruel place for continuing.

Deaths and attacks all around – a scene equivalent to a child in a candy shop for Death – but all Will saw was his arrow, then Halt's face as it disappeared somewhere in his chest. Surprise, confusion at the Ranger fletching, annoyance that he couldn't seem to get his bearings, then finally pain.

The glee of Death and the horror of Will strongly contrasted in the eyes of the one watching.

_Angel of Mercy  
>How did you find me?<br>How did you pick me up again?  
>Angel of Mercy<br>How did you move me?  
>Why am I on my feet again?<em>

Falling to his knees by his former mentor's body, Will grasped a quickly chilling hand. The cold of fear – a close ally of Death at times, it seemed – covered him like a blanket as for one awful moment it seemed Halt was dead.

But no, there was just blood, still flowing through cracks where the arrow was wedged and chest still trembling to move up and down. The man was fast fading, and almost unconscious. Armored feet tramped around them, and there was a brief moment of panic as Will realized that if they were attacked he would be absolutely no shape to defend even himself. Well, he thought dully, at least he and Halt could go together, and he could beg for forgiveness.

The metallic sound of sword on sword sounded close to Will's head and he looked up, anguished gaze resting upon an angry and tearful Gilan fending off enemies from where they lay.

Will had a horrible thought: Was Gil mad at _him_?

His friend's desperate shout jolted him from helplessness.

"_Do something!" _

Will dragged the body – _no, HALT, _he thought fiercely. _He's not dead yet _– to the shelter of trees, never once releasing his hold on his father's hand, the feel of a pulse both a blessing and curse under Will's fingers.

_How can the thing keeping you alive kill you at the same time? _was his anguished thought as more blood leaked from under the arrow with every pump.

Close by, Death just laughed. Foliage did not hide them from his hungry gaze.

And neither from anyone else, for that matter.

_I see you  
>Whoa Whoa Whoa<br>I feel you  
>Whoa Whoa Whoa<em>

He couldn't leave to get a healer, couldn't stop himself from thinking every regretful thought that arose and crying through it all.

He certainly didn't deserve to be a full Ranger if he couldn't even keep his arrows from hitting people on his own side. He would never live with himself if the damn hand he was clutching didn't warm. Halt could cut his hair with his knife a million times over and Will would never make fun of him again. He just wanted him _back_.

_Fortress of daylight  
>Caught me on standby<br>Waiting to catch the quickest plane  
>Fly me to nowhere<br>It's better than somewhere  
>That's where I've been and nothing's changed<em>

Gilan was there quite suddenly, his blue eyes shining and blonde hair dirty with sweat and grime. His sword, bloodied and sharp, stayed in his hand as he knelt by Halt's other side. A smarter move than Will, the man realized, as he'd tossed his bow somewhere in the battleground and his knives were still in his sheath.

Still hovering, Death growled with impatience at this new addition.

Eyes bright with tears, Gil's gaze landed on the arrow, the familiar fletching, and the way it buried deep into Halt's rib cage. Slowly, much too slowly for Will, Gilan looked up at him. Tears spilled out of both men's eyes, and Gil asked the question Will thought he himself still couldn't answer in this short time.

"What happened?"

_All I wanted to say  
>All I wanted to do<br>Is fall apart now  
>All I wanted to feel<br>I wanted to love  
>It's all my fault now<br>A tragedy for sure_

Gilan didn't wait for an answer. He leapt to his feet quite suddenly, whirling around to savagely hack at a man attempting to sneak up on them. Will mentally shook himself. Hard. He had to get his act together.

The blonde man turned again, a fiery determination now in his eyes.

Death looked on suspiciously.

"Get up." The command was neither kind nor harsh, just blunt, and Will scrambled to his feet, letting go of Halt's hand in doing so. He felt a little part of him rip then.

Gilan then pointed to Will's belt. "Knives."

Will was catching on quickly, vision still blurry but mind clearing with focus, a will for Halt to live.

Death growled again.

Will pulled out his weapons and stood defensively over Halt, hearing the man's labored breathing with relief. Gilan took a breath and vanished into the fight.

The hope of action filled both men, Gilan spurred with urgency and Will mentally fighting off the cold that could clutch at both him and his surrogate father, drowning one in darkness and the other in guilt.

_Angel of Mercy  
>How did you find me?<br>How did you pick me up again?  
>Angel of Mercy<br>How did you move me?  
>Why am I on my feet again?<em>

It may have been a miracle even, or perhaps Gilan was just very persuasive at the time, but he found a Healer willing to help the certain injured Ranger despite the, admittedly just as pressing, if not less, soldiers fallen all over the battlefield. And though Halt was carried with infinite care to a medical tent, the fact that he was on the brink of life and death was all too clear.

Because if Death has its power, then Life must exist too. And Halt was nothing if not stubborn. It only increased with the aging.

Having two of the people he cared for the most rooting by his bedside certainly helped.

Fighting off what seemed to be imminent death was simple when you thought about it. Nothing is stronger than an old man's will to live, along with his two close-to-sons giving off the most determined vibe; it's enough to send Death's plan all haywire.

It can be quite a sore loser.

And so Halt opened his eyes.

_I see you  
>Whoa Whoa Whoa<br>I feel you  
>Whoa Whoa Whoa<br>I'm so lost in you  
>A tragedy, it seems to be over now<br>A tragedy, it seems to be over now_

The healer's tent. Halt was awake, Will was still worried, Gilan grinned, and Death was furious. But no one really cared.

"How are you feeling?" Will asked anxiously.

"Probably like he just got shot," Gilan pounced in helpfully.

Halt sent a tired glare at him. "It's really not funny, Gilan."

The blonde man's smile turned a little sad, but still relieved. "I know."

Halt's gaze slid to Will's upset one. The other man fidgeted nervously as Halt drawled, "I assume that was your arrow?"

Will nodded sheepishly, and Gilan raised an eyebrow. Halt felt a brief flash of annoyance – he had been going to do that.

"I am so sorry-"

Halt just held up a hand, holding Will's gaze steadily. "I know. It's alright."

And when you've nearly killed someone, those are the best words you can hear.

"Yeah, Halt," Gilan had to joke, relief coloring his teasing. "Will couldn't tell who you were. I bet it was the hair."

"Look who's talking."

And they laughed Death away through their tears.

_Angel of Mercy  
>How did you find me?<br>How did you pick me up again?  
>Angel of Mercy<br>How did you move me?  
>Why am I on my feet again?<em>

Perhaps they couldn't keep cheating Death forever. But when it happened, and he did die, Halt planned on having a white head of hair and several grandchildren. And he didn't hesitate to tell Will and Alyss that.

_I see you  
>Whoa whoa whoa<br>I feel you  
>Oh oh oh<em>

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><p><strong>Now, I'm quite proud of this, considering it's pretty much my first angsty fic, heh. And thanks to <strong>marauderly izzy **for finding quite a few typos that I missed the several times I proofread. That's why you have a beta, people :)**

**Review, and all that.**

**-Dodo**


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